Heart's Desire
by Jantallian
Summary: Long before they ever met, experience and emotion unite Jess and Slim.


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**Heart's Desire**

Jantallian

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*** * J * ***

"How far is it to Bethlehem ... not very far ... shall we find the stable-room ... lit by a star ..."

The haunting melody drifted out of the open window, a clear voice rising and falling like an almost visible ripple across the deepening blue of the evening sky. As the boy came out of the barn and lifted his eyes to the evening star, he smiled.

His ma was singing the little 'uns to sleep – the same song she'd sung to Jess himself and no doubt to his elder siblings too. He wished he could bottle the sound, store up this precious moment of tranquility, the deep love and peace which was at the heart of his family, underlying all the busyness of a thriving Texas ranch.

But he didn't really need to capture it. It was a simple, profound part of his own heart and his young life. His ma often said, when she'd been singing the song, that you were always "not very far from love" and love always had room for you, just as the children were welcomed into the byre where the Christ Child lay sleeping.

\- _You're always welcome in the home of love, never forget it._ _Though you may travel there by yourself_, y_ou're not alone, Terco._ – Her words, specially for him, rang in his mind on this night. Wise mother, she knew his stubborn independence would make him fight against anything which might try to curb his wildness. Already it had brought him passionate clashes with authority and beatings which he knew he deserved. Yet he never doubted that love – sometimes shown in discipline, but always freely given because he was precious in its sight.

Jess looked up at the vast heavens which the stars were beginning to paint with their brightness. A skein of cloud swept over them, driven fast by some upper wind which he could not feel here on the solid earth. He felt a chill. As if everything had vanished – the ranch, the people, the love he was part of ... everything ... leaving him alone in a world wider than his seven year old mind could comprehend.

The moment passed as swiftly as it had come. Jess's face lit up with another smile when the house door opened and his ma came out.

"Terco?" Her voice was little more than a whisper, but reached him across the yard nonetheless. This was a woman who could make herself heard above a milling herd of cattle - or of kids.

"Madre estrella, I'm here."

She came across to join him, moving swiftly, yet without the slightest suggestion of hurrying – a tiny figure, sword-straight and lithe despite years of rough journeying, unrelenting work and the labor of bearing seven children. When she reached him, she enveloped Jess in a fierce but awkward hug. She was still taller than him, but not by much.

Releasing him with a sigh, she told him, "Johnny's gone missing again."

*** * S * ***

"Can we see the little child? Is he within? ... If we lift the wooden latch, may we go in?"

Crouched in the warmth of the hay, which filled the barn loft with a scent sweeter in its simplicity than any perfume, the boy recalled the haunting melody. The gentle voice singing it had drifted out of the ranch house window, the sound rising and falling like an almost visible ripple through the crisp air.

His ma's voice. Only yesterday she had been singing, happy as she prepared even more food to tide them over the time when she would be occupied with something more important and time-consuming than cooking and caring for her family.

Now all was quiet. The window was lamp-lit. Its light fell warm across the empty yard. All was still.

Slim knew that stillness well by now.

It was not the stillness of tranquility. Nor the silence of peace.

The held breath and the prayer for life. The fervent beating of one heart calling another to live.

He had lived through such silence, such stillness, so often in his first decade. For much of it, he had been too young to realize the full pain, the full power, of what was happening. Babies were born. Then they were no longer there. It had taken Nathaniel's untimely death, falling from this very loft, to engrave into his heart the true sense of what it meant to lose a brother.

Would this child live? Would his mother survive if it didn't? Would she even survive once more the anguish of bringing a new life into the world?

These thoughts raced round Slim's head until he felt dizzy. Too dizzy to descend the loft ladder safely when he was called. For he would be called. Whatever the outcome of this night, he would be called to share it. There was no escape from the responsibility which his position as the oldest and only surviving Sherman son placed upon him. But it was a heavy burden for a boy who was only almost twelve.

"Matthew?"

His father's voice. The only person who called him by his given name. To everyone else he was the slender, smaller version of his tall, broad-shouldered father, Matthew Sherman senior, and the contrast between them had earned him the nickname 'Slim'. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever grow out of it and be acknowledged in his own right. It was hard for boy on the verge of manhood.

Feet sounded on the ladder and his pa's head appeared in the hatch. He came through easily, the mighty muscles of his upper body making nothing of the effort to hoist himself up onto the loft floor. He moved over to sit next to Slim in the hay and put his arm round his son in silent sympathy. The night had been harrowing for him, but he did not ignore what the youngster had endured.

"It's all ok. A strong baby and your ma's doing fine!" There was joy and pride and deep weariness in his voice. "The doc says we've nothing to worry about."

Slim looked intently at the dear, familiar face. If he had suffered, his pa had suffered more. The loss of so many of his sons could have driven a lesser man to bitter despair. But the constant for Matthew Sherman was the love, health and happiness of his beloved wife and his eldest son. Now Slim could see relief and hope in his pa's face. He allowed his heart to open to the possibility that this time all would go well.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

Slim considered this gravely. A girl would have been an unknown factor, her chances of survival something of which they had no experience or means of predicting. But he had another brother.

"Can we go in? Can we see him?"

"Yes," Matthew smiled and together they made their way down the ladder, out of the barn, across the yard, and lifted the latch of the house door.

*** * J * ***

"May we stroke the creatures there — ox, ass, or sheep?"

As he headed out of the yard, after reassuring his mother he would retrieve the stray, Jess thought with a grin that none of the animals in the carol would have lured his brother from his bed. It was dogs Johnny was after, or to be more accurate, puppies. Over on their uncle's spread, his pure bred Border Collie had given birth to a litter and Johnny had decided he wanted one. And what he wanted, he would pursue relentlessly with complete disregard for all other considerations.

Jess's grin dissolved rapidly into the scowl which Johnny frequently provoked. He knew his younger brother in a way which the adults of the family did not. True, Johnny was known for his single-minded determination, but somehow he always avoided getting into the trouble which Jess's independence brought. Even at five years old, Johnny was manipulative and an expert at getting his own way. If he wanted a puppy, he was going to have one, regardless of the fact that the animals did not even belong to his branch of the family and were too valuable an asset to be given away to a child.

Now Jess was running towards the main ranch buildings. Running with the easy, rhythmic lope his father had taught him, a pace which would enable him to cover a considerable distance without fatigue or rest. Not that he had a great way to go, only a mile or so. Zachariah Harper did not choose to live with his brothers and their offspring, but the families were close enough for easy communication and working together. Jess was well used to crossing the distance and, thinking nothing of it, did not even bother to take a pony. Besides, Johnny might just have ridden over there and another mount would probably hinder Jess's efforts to force him to come home.

When he reached Joshua Harper's spread, Jess could see no sign of Johnny's pony tethered or left in a corral. This meant Johnny had walked or run, just as Jess had done. He was angry with himself now because he had not brought a mount. The thought of dragging his reluctant and protesting brother across the intervening acreage of rough grass was one he did not relish. He paused for a moment to consider his best strategy. He gazed back towards his home.

There was nothing to be seen. No silhouette of a building. No branch of a tree. No line of a fence. Nothing. As if that strange upper wind had blown across the face of the earth, like a careless hand wiping away a child's drawing in the mist on a windowpane. Everything had disappeared. There was not even the glimmer of a lamp in a window or the flicker of fire ...

A wave of paralyzing terror surged through Jess. So powerful was the fear that for a full minute he was rooted to the spot, unable to move or utter a sound, although his instinct was to run and yell and drag his siblings to safety. Then, with one thought in his mind, he turned and sprinted past the corrals and the big horse barn to the little barn in which he knew the puppies were housed.

Johnny was there. He was safe! He was sitting snuggled up in the heaped straw which made a deep bed in a stall for the canine family. He had one of the puppies in his arms. Jess fetched up against the partition which had been improvised across the opening of the stall. The rest of the puppies were huddled close to their mother, who was shifting restlessly, her eyes rolling with stress.

Jess frowned.

"Put him down, Johnny! They ain't ready to be handled yet."

Johnny looked up. His determined jaw and challenging blue eyes had an expression Jess knew was often on his own face.

"You ain't gonna make me!"

"You heard what Uncle Josh said. He told y' not to. You're disturbin' the bitch."

"Ain't!" What Johnny didn't want to hear, he didn't hear. His chin went up in a typical Harper gesture of defiance.

Jess was thinking hard, very hard. He was perfectly capable of overpowering Johnny and making him come home, but he was reluctant to use force on someone smaller than he was. And anyway he couldn't just climb in and drag Johnny out: it would cause even more disturbance for the little family.

"Ma's worryin' about you." More like to give him a good tongue-lashing, but it wouldn't help to say so now.

Johnny shrugged. "She knows where I am."

"Yeah, but it's late now. Rachel's asleep. It's near your time too."

"Ain't!" It was Johnny's favorite response of the night.

"The puppies need sleep too," Jess pointed out. "Look at 'em, all the others are snugged down for the night. Put 'im back, Johnny, and we'll come see them again in the morning."

As if in agreement, the bitch gave a low growl. Jess felt like giving a much louder one. He could do with some kind of back-up, even if it was only from a dog.

It seemed his prayer was heard. Or at least his guardian angel came to his rescue. The guardian angel was, in fact, a wiry-looking teenager with copper-colored hair and the same piercing eyes as the rest of the clan, only his were a shade of blue-green: there could be no doubt that he was closely related to Jess and Johnny. He was about to unsaddle the horse he had been riding, but he took one look at the situation and dropped the reins. He strode up to the stall, leaned over the partition and picked Johnny up by the back of his shirt.

"Take the pup, Pequino Terco." He automatically addressed Jess by the nickname the family used as a fitting alternative to his real given name, Jesse.

Jess gently lifted the little animal out of his brother's arms and Johnny fortunately had the sense not to keep clutching it. Jess leaned over in his turn to put it back with its brothers and sisters.

"Thanks, Cal!"

Callum Harper looked thoughtfully from one to the other of his cousins. Though he was accustomed to fishing Jess out of whatever trouble he had managed to get himself into, he was certain Johnny was the culprit in this instance. He retained his firm hold on the wriggling offender.

"Now it seems I got two choices. I can carry you inside to my pa, right now, Johnny Harper, and y' can take what y' deserve. Or I can put you down and let Jesse take y' back where y' should rightly be."

"Put me down!" Johnny demanded immediately. "I'm goin' home."

"Keep hold of him, Cal!" Jess warned quickly. He knew from bitter experience that Johnny was not to be trusted. It was something no-one else seemed to have noticed, but it hit Jess hard every time Johnny let him down or broke his word. He wished fervently he had someone his own age whom he could trust the way he trusted his older siblings and cousins.

Cal lowered Johnny so he could stand, but did not let go of his shirt. Jess was still looking uneasy – Cal could read his expressions effortlessly, having decided early on, when Jess was not much more than a daring three year old, that it was his role to look after him.

Jess was indeed uneasy and not without cause. He knew given the slightest opportunity, Johnny would slide out of his shirt and escape if he could. At the same time, he didn't want to ask for help with his younger brother. After all, not only was he two years older, but he was two years more mature and practised in the hard lessons needed to reach his father's exacting standards. Very soon he would begin the next stage of his training towards manhood, spending two years living with the People, learning survival and endurance from the supreme masters of these skills, just as his father had. He ought to be able to manage a five year old for a mile in the dark!

"D'you ride over?" Cal asked, moving back to his horse and more or less carrying Johnny with him. Receiving the expected negative, he continued, "You wanna take the paint mustang in the end stall, Jesse? He ain't been broke long, but you can handle him."

Jess nodded, grateful his pride had been sympathetically saved and pleased Cal would trust him with one of the precious string of horses he had trained himself. "Thanks, Cal. It'll be faster than walkin'."

"That's for sure," Cal grinned. He waited patiently without relaxing his hold on Johnny while Jess saddled his mount. When Jess had led the paint pony out and mounted up, Cal hoisted Johnny up and deposited him firmly, if uncomfortably, in front of his brother, where Jess could keep a good clasp round him. Cal was not going to risk putting the little wretch behind the saddle when he could so easily jump off and cause even more trouble.

Cal walked with them to the edge of the yard. He was not overly concerned about the two youngsters setting out into the dusk – they both knew the terrain as well as their own bunk-beds, which they should shortly be climbing into. And for all his guardianship of Jess, he respected both his cousin's independence and his well-trained skills.

So he just sent the pair on their way with an encouraging wave. Before them the distant buildings of Jess's home stood out along the horizon and the sheltering trees stretched up long branches as if fencing in the sky. Above them the stars grazed thick and brilliant in the deep prairie of the heavens.

*** * S * ***

It seemed so far across the living room to the bedroom where his mother was cradling the new addition to the family. Slim felt as if every step was a mile, and every mile-step drew nearer to the end of a long, long journey. For it had been a journey – one which the three of them had traveled, not across space but through time, to arrive at this moment of hope and fear.

Would the new child ever know how they had come to this point? Slim sent up a fervent prayer that the baby would never have to walk the path which he and his parents had had to follow.

As he and his pa entered the lamp-lit room, Slim's fears subsided and his hope grew. His mother lay peaceful in the bed. Mary Sherman looked tired but there was a new optimism about her mouth and eyes. She held out her arms to her eldest son and he went willingly into her hug. His pa put long, strong arms round them both and made the circle complete.

Except it wasn't complete.

The baby was lying in a Moses basket next to the bed.

Slim lifted his head and looked down at this new brother. The baby's face was red and crumpled from the strain of birth and his eyes were screwed tight shut but his lips curved as if he was smiling in contentment. Slim had forgotten how small and defenseless a new-born was, even though he regularly tended the birth of animals on the ranch. This human child was more fragile and helpless, yet seemed to radiate a joyful strength out of all proportion to his size.

"His name's Andrew," Matthew said softly. "It means 'a strong man'."

Slim nodded, understanding how his parents felt. Still, the child was vulnerable, as all the others had been – to accident, disease, the elements, the wilderness in which they made their home. It would be so easy to damage him.

"His hands are so tiny! Can I touch him? Will he wake?"

His ma's arm tightened round him and she smiled. "Of course you can. If he wakes, he'll see his loving brother."

"Loving family," Slim corrected firmly, but his normally serious face echoed a little of her smile.

He stretched out a tentative finger to touch the soft warm skin of a tight-fisted hand. The baby stirred, making a soft chuckling sound, and the little fist relaxed and curled round Slim's finger. He was not holding the baby. The baby was holding on to him. The trust pierced Slim to the center of his being and he vowed in this very moment that he would always protect his brother Andrew and do all in his power to make sure that his boyhood was safe and untroubled by the adult cares Slim himself had borne.

As baby Andrew held tight to his finger, Slim reached out to his mother with his free hand and she in turn took Matthew's and Matthew laid a gentle finger on top of Slim's.

The circle was complete, its strength unbroken.

*** * J * ***

The paint pony made nothing of his double burden and carried them swiftly through the starlit evening. They were home almost before they knew it. As far as Jess was concerned, this was excellent, as it reduced considerably the time he had to cope with Johnny's protests. Although his younger brother made no actual attempt to escape in transit, his heels gave Jess's legs an uncomfortable drubbing which certainly didn't make it any easier to control their mount. But that was typical of Johnny – he never cared if he made things difficult for other people, although he always assumed an air of innocence if taken to task about it.

When they rode into the yard, the boy stopped kicking Jess and demanded: "Stop! Pull up here. Stop right now!"

"Why?"

"Put me down! I walked over there and I ain't gonna be carried back in like a baby!"

Jess stopped the pony but he did not let go of Johnny. He was considering the situation carefully. He'd promised his ma to bring Johnny home and that meant into the house and his waiting bed. He could see his ma on the porch, warmly wrapped in her furs and rocking gently in one of the rocking chairs. Beside her was the dark shadow of someone sitting cross-legged on the floor. His pa!

Zachariah Harper might to all intents and purposes have been restored to his European heritage, but when he was on his own or with his own family, he preferred the habits in which he had been reared. And, once the children were abed, Zak and Estrellita enjoyed spending a quiet time together under the stars. Neither of them appeared worried. They were trusting Jess!

On the other hand, Johnny's wish to maintain a little dignity spoke keenly to Jess's own independence. Being respected was a precious gift but one which each man had to earn, whether he be a cowherd or a king – that was what his pa had taught him. Jess admired Johnny's tenacity and his refusal to be shamed; even though Johnny hardly deserved it, Jess didn't have to add to his brother's humiliation.

"You gonna act like you got some sense now?"

"Sure, Jess. Ain't gonna misbehave."

"Ok. Y' can jump down, but y' walk straight over t' ma and tell her you're sorry. You hear?"

He might just as well have saved his breath. As soon as his grip relaxed, Johnny surged up and flung himself to the ground, which he hit running. In a flash, his sturdy legs had carried him out of sight around the corner of the barn.

Jess cursed in a manner unbecoming to his years, vaulted off the pony and lost precious seconds hitching it because he was not sure how well trained to ground-haltering it was. When he rounded the corner of the barn, Johnny was nowhere to be seen. This was not surprising, as a whole tribe of children could and often did hide around the place. It did not give Johnny much of an advantage though, because Jess had been playing hide and seek here far longer than he had.

Instead of rushing from hiding place to hiding place, however, Jess stood totally still and listened. It was another thing his pa had taught him: "see with your ears." He closed his eyes and concentrated; not something you did without thinking in a dangerous situation, but now it helped to focus the hearing so that he could eliminate the sounds he would expect to pick up.

After a minute or so, he moved silently through the smaller sheds and pens, not bothering to look in the gaps and crannies between them. Excellent hiding places, but the sound which was drawing him forward came from fingers and feet scrabbling against wood. Which meant Johnny was attempting to get into the gully between two gables of the house roof – a hiding place normally only attempted by the older children.

Sure enough, when he came to the back of the house, Jess found he was just in time. Johnny was hanging precariously by his fingers from the roof-edge and clearly could go neither up nor down. If his grip slipped, he was going to fall or slide down the side of the house and land heavily on the pile of logs which formed the first part of the climb.

"Hold on! Just another minute, Johnny. I'll get y'."

Jess had only made the ascent a few times himself because, although his reach was just long enough, heights were something he disliked and avoided whenever possible. Now he just gritted his teeth and scrambled determinedly up to where his brother was in difficulty. He took care, however, to stay out of Johnny's immediate reach. If the boy panicked or even just reacted in his usual self-centered way, he could bring them both tumbling down.

"Johnny, keep still and just hang on. I'm gonna climb above y' and pull y' up onto the ledge."

After what seemed like centuries, but was actually only a few minutes, they both lay in the gully, bruised and breathless, but safe in the short term.

"Now I suppose I'm gonna have t' get y' down somehow!"

More deep thought ensued. Jess was always prone to act on gut instinct and felt he had definitely done more than his share of reasoning tonight, but he had to find a solution other than just yelling for help. That would rob them both of independence and forfeit any respect.

"Ok, you're gonna get up on my back and put y' arms round my neck. I'll carry y' down."

"Piggy-back!" Johnny sounded delighted at this new game.

"Yeah, but I can't hold you, so y' gonna have t' grip tight. Only not so tight y' choke me! Understand?"

Presently two rather shaky boys stood once more on firm ground. Johnny slid off Jess's back but Jess grabbed him at once.

"Now maybe y'll realize it's better to spend the night in y' own bed! Come on."

Jess kept a firm hand on Johnny's shoulder as he marched him round to the front of the building once more. Whatever had passed between them out of sight of the adults stayed out of sight and mind. So he made it look like brotherly unity rather than precautionary restraint. He'd maintain Johnny's dignity as he did his own.

Their parents were still sitting imperturbably on the house porch. As the boys neared the steps together, Jess released his clasp of Johnny's shoulder, freeing him to make the final approach alone.

Zak rose fluidly to his feet without apparent effort. He stood looking down at Johnny. He said nothing. His face was inscrutable, his eyes more piercing than the clarity of the starlight. It was as if he measured everything he saw against that purity and truth which the light embodied.

Johnny, as usual, attempted an escape route. He turned towards their ma. "I'm sorr –"

"Inside!" Zak's single word of command fell like a whiplash cracking through the still air.

He was obeyed instantly. None of them had any doubt that Johnny would be accounting for himself in the morning.

Jess stood at the foot of the steps. His father turned his piercing gaze on him and held it there for a long while. He asked nothing. His face remained impassive. He simply inclined his head, man to man.

Respect. And approval. His father had given him the gift of kings. Jess's heart was pounding with love and relief and pride. Although he felt as if he had brought nothing through his efforts but the expected outcome, his gift had been recognized and acknowledged and revealed to him in all its worth.

Now he had a final duty to perform. Jess walked back to the paint pony and untethered it. As he mounted up again, his ma called out: "What are you doing now, Terco?"

Jess halted the pony in surprise. "Cal loaned him. I'm takin' him home and seein' he's settled for the night."

He didn't have to do it, he could easily put the animal in one of their stalls for the night and return it in the morning. But he had chosen for himself to go after Johnny on foot and he intended to complete the task the way he had begun.

Zak's hand fell on his wife's shoulder and his deep voice rumbled out like the darkness of the earth under the sweep of the sky. "He acts with honor."

Jess heard those four words all the way back to his uncle's barn and all the way home as he loped wearily but silently over the starlit grass.

*** * J * S * ***

The bedroom door closed without a sound as Slim slipped out. Mary pushed up against the pillows, her loving eyes seeming to follow his progress, although she could not actually see him.

"He's going to the barn. To the loft."

Matthew nodded, but made no move to prevent his eldest going out again. The boy was of an age to make his own decisions.

"It's Nathaniel, isn't it? Slim feels close to him there."

Again Matthew nodded.

"In all this time," Mary said softly, "you know, he's never shed a tear, not even a little one."

"But he did smile tonight," Matthew reminded her as looked down at the precious gift in the cradle, the longed-for second son. "A little smile. He doesn't do it very often."

"He's carried the burden of grief for a long while," Mary continued. "Not just his own, but yours and mine. We know how hard that is."

"But he's learning from it," Matthew said firmly. "He's not wallowing in sorrow. He's working out how he can become a man who is worthy of the honor of being a brother."

Mary sighed and shook her head, half relieved, half exasperated by her husband's assessment. "But he still has an empty space inside."

Slim sat once more in the spacious hayloft and reached out mentally to the brother who had been the other half of him. He didn't use conscious words or any prayer, but he needed to share with Nathaniel, whom he had called 'Little Yell', the arrival of their new brother Andrew. He wondered briefly if Nathaniel and Andrew had known each other before Andrew was born. After all, life must come from God in heaven, so why not? But the important thing was that Andrew could not fill the space inside him. Andrew would have his own space in Slim's heart and life – that was right and natural. But Slim had lost something and he understood that he would never find it again.

Only ... he might find something which was its equal. The thought struck him and grappled itself into his heart and soul.

Some day he would stand down there in the barn, right there where Little Yell had died, and someone would stand beside him. Someone equal to him in age and capability and responsibility. Not someone he had to look after, but someone who would always have his back as he would theirs.

Could it be possible? Against all reason, Slim was certain it was. The weariness of the long night's watching overcame him at last, but he fell asleep in the hay with a smile which was more than a little one on his lips ...

... while, in a far distant yard, another boy was approaching another barn ...

Jess had no particular reason to re-enter the yard unseen – it was just second nature not to draw attention to yourself. Not only had he been well-schooled in the art of concealment, but it was also a very useful skill when you didn't want adults interfering with whatever you planned on doing. This evening he only planned to do a final check and say goodnight to his own pony. And maybe to linger a little - he liked the barn when it was quiet and settled and everyone had gone away at the end of the day.

Skillful though Jess's approach had been, it was highly unlikely to deceive the expert eyes of his father and the intimate insight of his mother.

Estrellita half rose, intending to go down and remind their son that he had a bed to sleep in.

Zak's hand stayed her once again. " 'Lita, el niño cuida su propio caballo." Spanish had been the first European language he had learnt and it was 'Lita's family tongue.

She knew perfectly well the duty of care every rider had to their horse, but a mother had the same duty to her children. The events of the night had aroused all her instincts for this independent middle child of theirs. He needed the strength and love of the family.

"El necesita a su familia!" She understood the capacity for fierce love and loyalty in Jess's heart, though she knew it would cost him pain.

But from Zak he had inherited the freedom of spirit which thrives in space and solitude. "El necesita estar solo."

"He needs sleep." 'Lita switched to English as abruptly as she stood up. "I'll fetch him in."

"You need sleep, woman!" Zak's hand rested lightly for a moment on the swollen mound of her belly. "You and these two. Go in!"

As usual, he was instantly obeyed.

He called softly after her, "Sing them to sleep – all of them." Then he sank back into the familiar cross-legged position, silently keeping watch over the solitude of his son.

In the barn, Jess leaned thankfully against the warm, solid shoulder of his pony, whose name, appropriately enough, was Owl. He was weary from all the physical effort he had expended and bruised by the assault of Johnny's heels. Far more than this, his heart and spirit were chilled by the eerie sense of premonition which had overwhelmed him and sorely bruised by his brother's repeated deceit.

It hurt him to be betrayed! And he was so weary of it. Yet intrinsic loyalty kept his normally volatile temper in check and made him carry alone the burden of Johnny's untrustworthiness.

Jess just longed quite simply for someone his equal in trust. He felt so lonely.

The quiet sounds and rich scents of the barn would normally have comforted him, but now he found himself thinking of the Child in the song. The one who, when he was born, received gifts honoring and respecting who he was. But in the end, it was a friend who betrayed him and friends who deserted him! Jess couldn't get beyond that realization, even though he knew the working out of the story and what that terrible price had bought.

He slid down into the straw and Owl nudged him with a soft nose and breathed a long, warm, wet breath over him. There was a simple trust between the two of them which right now felt to Jess more solid and real than any with other human beings.

But he longed fervently for a human being, a brother he could trust, somewhere on the far side of being alone. He was so tired ...

A clear voice rising and falling like an almost visible ripple in the shadowy air of the barn.

"For all weary children ... Mary must weep ... here, on his bed of straw ... sleep, children, sleep."

Curled in the straw in the corner of the stall, Jess closed his eyes, sighed and slept.

Two distant barns.

Two fathers of one integrity.

Two mothers but one love.

Two sons with one longing.

A duet, though the voices are a thousand miles apart:

"God, in His mother's arms ... boys in the byre ...

sleep, as they sleep who find their heart's desire."

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* * *

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NOTES:

Acknowledgements:

_I usually try to pick a contemporary carol for the Christmas story, but in this case I have shifted Frances Chesterton's poem back in time from 1917 and altered the last verse very slightly. The full text is below. The story just came from the words and the way they evoked for me some moments in the childhoods of Jess and Slim. These arise from the Laramie universe in my imagination, rather than directly from the series itself._

_Nonetheless, the great creative writing of the 'Laramie' series is respectfully acknowledged. My stories are purely for pleasure and are inspired by the talents of the original authors, producers and actors._

I'm not sure if Andy's birth date is actually ever mentioned, but obviously in this story I've decided he was born somewhere close to Christmas (unless unseasonable carol singing is going on!). For the mathematically inclined among you, in this story, Slim is twelve years older than Andy and although he is four years older than Jess, because of the way their birthdays fall, at the point of this story, Slim is nearly twelve and Jess just seven.

Other stories which explore the background of both families touched on in this story:

_*** ** Answers after Sunset_

_*** ** Casket of Fears and Dreams_

_***** Encounter in Shadows_

_*** ** Fathers' Night_

_*** ** Starlight Brotherhood_

_._

How far is it to Bethlehem?

Not very far.

Shall we find the stable-room

Lit by a star?

.

Can we see the little Child?

Is He within?

If we lift the wooden latch,

May we go in?

.

May we stroke the creatures there —

Ox, ass, or sheep?

May we peep like them and see

Jesus asleep?

.

If we touch His tiny hand,

Will He awake?

Will He know we've come so far

Just for His sake?

.

Great kings have precious gifts,

And we have naught;

Little smiles and little tears

Are all we brought.

.

For all weary children

Mary must weep;

Here, on His bed of straw,

Sleep, children, sleep.

.

God, in His mother's arms,

Babes in the byre,

Sleep, as they sleep who find

Their heart's desire.


End file.
